


Resistance

by fairestswan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Friendship, May add more characters/relationships/warnings throughout the story, Romance, The Hunger Games AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairestswan/pseuds/fairestswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>All that I can focus on is his palm against mine, our sweat mingling together as both hands tremble. His eyes, meeting mine. Hazel on green. And suddenly, I see in the hazel depths that he is just as terrified as I am. Our harsh breathing is suddenly all I can hear, and I take a deep shuddering gasp as I register just how afraid I am to die.</i> The Hunger Games AU with James and Lily as tributes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I first started this on fanfiction.net but I decided to upload it here too! Feedback is always appreciated.

All that I can focus on is his palm against mine, our sweat mingling together as both hands tremble. His eyes, meeting mine. Hazel on green. And suddenly, I see in the hazel depths that he is just as terrified as I am. Our harsh breathing is suddenly all I can hear, and I take a deep shuddering gasp as I register just how afraid I am to die.

I don't know what's real any more. There's fire, but no smoke. There's blood, but no bodies to support it. All I can feel, all that I know to be real, is the hand pressed against mine, the warm body barely two feet from me. In some sense, he is all that is keeping me from going insane.

In a way, partial insanity seems a small price to pay for being able to die beside someone that I love as much as him. In a way, there could be worse ways to go.

For a moment, it feels as if we're actually winning the games.

For a moment, death doesn't seem so bad.

...

_2029_

_I awake with a start, immediately aware that something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong, and as I take a deep breath to calm the bewildering rapid pace of my heartbeat, the air smells wrong too. Smoke. I scramble out from under my covers, sitting up and taking in the sight of my bedroom._

_Clothes thrown all over the floor...the pale pink, peeling wallpaper...the scarce amount of toys. Everything seems completely ordinary, which throws me for a minute, until my eyes follow the path of orange light dancing along the wooden floorboards, and eventually land on the fire dancing outside my bedroom window._

_A scream catches in my throat as I sit immobile for a minute, too shocked to register that I should be up, moving. Because this has happened before, the attacks. In these difficult times especially, they're becoming more common._

_And tonight, apparently, it's the Evans household's turn._

_Grabbing a torch and making my way out of bed, I run across to her door, praying to God that I'll open it to find the hall free of fire. Thankfully I does, and my movements towards my sister's bedroom quicken when I hear the distinct sound of a window, probably my bedroom's, smashing with the force of the flames._

_'Tuney!' I yell, before coughing as a wave of smoke suddenly fills the hallway. My head whips around to the source, and I can see smoke leaking out of the bathroom. I pull my thin nightgown up to my mouth, my voice muffled as I yell again. 'Tuney! Mum, dad-'_

_'Lily!' My father suddenly comes hurtling around the corner, smoke tickling the walls around him. Squinting through the thickening smoke, I can see that one of his shirt sleeves is slightly blackened, and I hurry to him and cling as he grabs my shoulders roughly. From the look on his face, he's just woken up and is as shocked as I am, if not a little more controlled._

_'Lily, we're getting out of this house, now, go on-'_

_'But Tuney-'_

_'I'm waking her now-'_

_Suddenly my mother's there, her hand grabbing mine as she pulls me towards the staircase. My head constantly turns between looking where I'm going and looking back to see where my father has disappeared into Tuney's room. My eyes are stinging with the force of the smoke as roaring fills my ears, my lungs screaming in protest as try to keep my mouth covered. I can vaguely hear my mother call for my father to hurry up before a beam to our left collapses, fire going with it. I scream, a piercing sound that forces my mother to lift me into her arms, and we run towards the front door._

_Then two things happen at once. The door suddenly bursts open, causing us both to jump out of the way in shock as two of our neighbours appear behind it. Over their shoulder I can friends calling out to us._

_The second thing that occurs is Petunia appearing at the doorway behind them, her face horrified and guilt-ridden as she stares at me with tears in her eyes._

_'Tuney.' My mum breathes out, and Petunia bursts into tears as the realisation hits me like a knife, almost as painful as the heat of the smoke feels on my skin._

_It's happened before, Petunia sneaking out to see her boyfriend. And now she's done it again._

_Which explains why my father still hasn't emerged from upstairs, clearly searching for his fifteen year old daughter._

_I gasp in shock as my mother suddenly staggers forward, and look to my right just in time to see her eyes rolling into the back of her head before she collapses to the floor, taking me with her as the two neighbours lunge forward to try and catch both my mother and the ten year old in her arms._

_They barely have time to grab me, however, when I leap up, turning around and running towards the burning staircase with all the energy I can muster as shouts erupt behind me._

_'No!'_

_'Lily!'_

_My body is screaming with protest, as is my throat as I call out to my father._

_'Daddy!'_

_The ceiling appears to be collapsing around me but I carry on, too naive and full of fear to even notice how hopeless my rescue mission is. All I can focus on, all that is in my brain is the determination to find my father, to get him to safety and hug him until I can breathe again._

_Because now I can't breathe. The nightgown proves useless in covering my mouth, even though it's soaked in sweat from the overwhelming heat that makes me feel as if my skin is blistering._

_'Dad-' My foot catches on a loose piece of floorboard and I slam into the floor, an entirely new pain engulfing my ankle as I struggle to think coherently and regain my footing._

_I turn over onto my back, resisting the urge to scream for fear of my throat. The flames lick at the ceiling, and for a moment, that's all I can see._

_That is, however, until I register that a small hand has grabbed mine, and I'm hit by the sudden rush of hope that my father has found me._

_I look to the side, and it isn't my father's blue eyes that meet mine. It's a pair of wide and alert hazel ones that are startlingly bright, even in a room that is full of flames. It's not my father holding my hand, I register. It's a boy around my age, someone I recognise to be a neighbour- possibly the son of one of the men that arrived at my door barely minutes ago. I definitely recognise him, despite my increasingly bleary mind and the fact that he's covered in soot._

_Why he's here though, I have no idea. Until I realise that he's trying to get me to sit up, and I blink at the boy with hazel eyes._

_'You're saving me.' I tell him, or at least I try to. My throat feels raw, so it comes out as a croak._

_'Trying to.' He tells me, his voice slightly shaky as he suddenly pulls me towards him, placing a jacket over my head to try and keep the smoke and flames away. I find myself leaning on him as he hauls me to my feet- or at least, foot. The other seems incompetent of movement right now, and I wince._

_I'm getting out of here. He's saving me._

_For a moment, I feel relief. But in my shock at this boy appearing I had forgotten the reason why I had run back to the flames, run back to the fiery hell._

_'My dad!' I tell him, struggling slightly despite how weak I'm growing. It's a miracle I can still hobble on one leg though, and the boy's arm is tight around me as he takes me, I hope, towards safety. I can barely see where we are now. Everything is smoke and flames and I'm growing dizzy._

_He doesn't reply, and for a moment I worry that he's growing as weak as I have._

_'Stay awake.' The boy's voice suddenly demands as my eyes flutter shut, and I force them apart._

_After what feels like hours, we've suddenly reached open air, and I feel both of us collapse, his arms still around me as I gasp in the fresh air, squinting at the night sky above me. My lungs burn as I inhale as much as I can, and I can hear people rushing towards us, cries coming from my mother._

_But where's dad?_

_I realise that my hand is still entwined with the boy's, and I turn to look at him in slight confusion. He's looking back at me, also taking deep breaths and blinking rapidly, as if he's surprised that we're both here._

_For some reason, all I can think of to say is- 'I'm Lily.'_

_He doesn't even find it strange. He just nods and replies- 'I know. James.' He vaguely points to himself before turning to stare up at the sky, as if amazed that he's still alive._

_I can feel hands on my face now, doctors checking that I'm okay and my mother fawning over me as she sobs. My gaze doesn't stray from James, who looks back at me amidst his parents' own hugs._

_I tell him, slightly breathless- 'Thank you' before collapsing into unconsciousness._

...

2036

7:47pm.

Approximately 16 hours and 13 minutes to go.

973 minutes- 58380 seconds away.

I go over it until it becomes a sort of mantra in my head, and the numbers began to fade into one. After a while my head begins to hurt with the concentration, and I take another sip of the cider in my hand and go back to counting. Because even though tonight District 4 has received a new shipping of food and drink to make sure that for the next week or two, we're fairly comfortable with our meals, all I can think of is that at noon tomorrow, I'll be at the reaping, preparing myself to...

16 hours and 13 minutes. 9-

'James, what's gotten into you tonight?' I'm caught off guard by the sudden appearance of my aunt's fingers clicking in front of my face, trying to gain my attention as I jump slightly before fidgeting in my chair.

'Mm?' I look at her questioningly, and she sits back while glancing at my uncle, who continues spearing a fork into his roast potatoes as if nothing's wrong.

'Why'd you keep looking at the clock?' She asks, her voice slightly stern as she dabs a napkin at her lips, leaving fuschia stains on the cloth. 'You don't even seem to be paying attention to tomorrow's plans.'

My uncle's head snaps up at this, his grey eyes meeting mine with sudden alarm and slight ferocity, forcing me to think quick. His wrath isn't something I want to face tonight.

'That's why I'm looking at it.' I improvise, giving a smile that they probably won't note is sarcastic. 'Counting down the hours.' I add for good effect, and take a lively swig of my drink to emphasise my point. My aunt visibly relaxes, giving me a sudden warm smile as her shaky hands reach for her wine. I vaguely wonder what medication she's using tonight.

'That's the spirit.' My uncle congratulates me, before putting down his knife and fork with a clatter. 'Now remember James, it's all about getting tactics tomorrow, the reapings are broadcast live on TV-'

'I know-' I answer, baffled that he still talks about the reapings as if I've never experienced one before, never watched the repeats on TV as my aunt and uncle complain about how I should have been the one volunteering that year.

'Which means that there can be no hesitancy, no faltering. The moment that the opportunity to volunteer arises, you shout as loud as you can to make sure they hear you-'

'Uh-huh.'

'You step forward and take swift steps towards the stage-'

'Got it.' I turn over a piece of cabbage on my plate, noticing how bored my voice sounds.

'Do not let anyone else distract you, you know how vicious a lot of people get about these reapings-'

Including you, I tell him in my head.

'And throughout the whole thing, do not let your face betray any emotion other than bravery and elation, have you got that?'

'As always.'

There's a slight pause as my uncle stares at me, and exchanges a glance with my aunt, who's expression looks faraway.

'What has gotten into you James?' He questions sharply, and I swallow slightly while trying to come up with the right words to say.

'Maybe...maybe someone else would be better at volunteering.' My uncle's fork clatters onto the plate. 'You know Jason Embry's hoping to volunteer, he's better built then me-'

'James, what exactly are you saying?'

I pause again, my eyes looking anywhere but my uncle's face. 'I'm saying that maybe District 4 can find a better tribute than me.' I finish, trying to make it sound like I'm just being modest and nervous. Which I am, in a way. But that's not the reason why I'm trying to avoid being reaped.

'Nonsense.' My uncle states boldly, finally finishing his dinner and taking the napkin out of his shirt. My aunt reaches across the table suddenly, her bony fingers wrapping around mine in a firm grip. She looks at me imploringly, in what I'm assuming is meant to be a comforting expression.

'James, sweetheart, I'm sure it's just the nerves talking. You'll be absolutely fine.' Her voice shakes slightly like it always does, her teeth yellow below her cracked lips. It's now that I see the desperation in her eyes, and it makes me falter slightly.

I nod, giving her a small smile, but I can't help but think to myself-

If fine means that I'm being forced to volunteer for a bloodbath that I have a 1 in 24 chance of coming out of alive, then yeah, I'm absolutely fine.

...

_2029_

_'What happened next?'_

_I scoot closer to him, my knees hugged to my chest and my long hair whipping me in the face as the wind blows across the tree we're sitting under. I stare at him avidly, listening intently to his story._

_James uses his hands to tell the story, gesturing wildly to make his point. 'Well Mrs Beckett said that they kept running, didn't stop until they reached our house.'_

_'But that's miles!'_

_'Didn't stop them.' He replies gravely, his hand movements stopping as he begins to pick at the grass, the old shirt he's wearing long enough that he has to keep shrugging the elbows up. In the dark days of the rebellion, food is rationed, let alone nice clothes to change into for play dates._

_'But why would they bother? Would they really get in that much trouble? I mean, everywhere is rebelling-'_

_James pauses for a moment, glancing at me and then looking at the sky. It's a lovely summers day, but the threat that constantly lingers over us makes me feel nervous all of a sudden. And yet, here under the tree in the field behind our houses with James, I feel safe._

_Memories of that night are still fuzzy, and I'm still not quite sure how and why James appeared so suddenly at my side and risked his life to save me. All I know is that his parents were completely furious at him for leaving them, and that I find myself too nervous to ask James why he did it._

_I also don't like to remember that night. Thinking about the aftermath, and what I lost tears me apart to the point where I don't feel able to breathe._

_And yet, since then, James has become a constant factor in my life. We've met by the tree every day since. It's become our special tree._

_'Everyone is rebelling.' He answers carefully, running a hand through his messy hair. I notice that it's a sort of habit of his. 'But in different ways. People with families, like ours, they don't say nothing because they have a lot to lose. But then there are people that aren't afraid to be...they aren't afraid to say what they're thinking. They aren't afraid to complain.'_

_Looking around carefully for fear of being overheard, I move even closer to James until we're barely a foot apart. He looks confused for a moment and stiffens slightly._

_'But why are they complaining?' My heart beats slightly faster, the question I've always wanted to ask, one that has never gained any answer (usually with the excuse, 'You're too young, you're only 10 years old'), finally being spoken. But I know James will tell me. We tell each other everything. 'Why are we in this war?'_

_His voice sounds slightly shaky when he replies, and I wonder if he's nervous about being overheard to. 'Think of the last time you wanted to learn about something in school and you were told that you couldn't. The last time that you had to go a night without eating because all the grain was being given to 'the richer citizens of Panem'. Think about how we're not allowed to play with, or even talk to some kids just because of the colour of their skin.' His eyes are blazing now, and turn to look at me intently._

_'That's what the government do. The Capitol. The government are supposed to be people that help us, help everyone in Panem, and yet they favour the ones with the most money.' He flicks a piece of mud off of his knee, a small scowl on his face._

_Something about seeing James so angry makes me want to calm him, so I link my arm with his, clasping his hand in mine and leaning my head on his shoulder. I can feel him gulp, and I sigh as I look at our houses in the distance._

_'Do you think it'll ever end?'_

_'The rebellion?'_

_I nod, and James sighs. 'Eventually. It's just whether it's a good or bad ending.'_

_There's silence for a minute or so, when James clears his throat._

_'How's things with you and Petunia?'_

_My heart drops at that, the terrible but familiar feeling of misery, grief, guilt and longing washing over me once again as my grip on his hand tightens. He squeezes back, turning to look at me._

_'I'm sorry. Just say if you don't wanna talk about it.' He tells me sheepishly, and I'm still for a long time._

_'I wanna go see my dad.' I tell him in a thick voice, and he nods slowly before we both rise to our feet. We walk until we reach a patch of grass nearer my house, below a willow tree. It's nice here. I'm sure dad likes it, beneath the sun and the gentle breeze._

_As we reach our destination and both stare at the gravestone, James takes my hand and holds it tight._

...

2036

I make my way home with my thick jacket wrapped tight around me, trying to avoid getting too cold so that I become ill. At this time of the year, I really can't afford it. With the reaping in just over 24 hours and with the winter getting increasingly freezing, it's not in my, or anyone else's, best interest that I become bed-ridden now.

It's a rarity of some sort to have a jacket like mine, something that I'm thankful for every day. Seeing as my mother doesn't leave the house anymore, she's given it to me. It's about 10 years old, but it keeps the cold out, which is good enough for me. It's not like we can afford woollen coats anymore. The only reason why we have this one is that it was one of the only things we could keep after the end of the war 7 years ago. Most of our other possessions, we've had to sell.

For being able to feed ourselves and keep a house over our head, it's a small price to pay. Many of the other residents of District 12 struggle to gain even that. With this thought in the back of my mind, I glance across the dusty, cobbled street at one of the gnarled trees that sits there, where just last week I'd encountered Mrs Kirbell on my local bread-run.

I hadn't needed to feel her pulse to know that she was gone, just like so many others in our district. The paleness of her skin that hung thinly on her protruding skeleton, and the emptiness of her open eyes said it all. I shove the thought aside as I continue walking.

The bread that I have bundled in my arms keeps my hands warm, and I think about how happy my mother will be that I've gotten it. It's a fresh import from District 4, and I'm lucky that I got it at all tonight. Then again, everyone's too tense to be picky about who they sell to tonight, what with the reaping tomorrow.

A few men pass me as I turn the corner, and nod to me in what I'm assuming is a sympathetic manner.

Of course, I think to myself, because this time tomorrow, I could be on my way to the Capitol.

Pushing these thoughts away aswell, I see that their faces are black and dusty from the coal that they've been mining all day, and I give a small smile back.

Our house is on the very edge of the Merchant section, and I approach it hurriedly in my haste to eat the bread in my arms. While I've now spent a day looking after 3 young children while their parents worked when I could have been looking after my mother, the bakers were grateful enough to give me bread and some grain in return.

We'll eat like kings tonight, I think to myself bitterly, and make my way inside.

'Lily?' A voice calls quietly from the small living room beyond the hall. 'Is that you?'

I don't answer, but walk in there straight away. My mother's hollow face lights up, and I instinctively reach forward to hug her. From where she sits in her chair, she looks vulnerable under the mass of thick blankets that me and Tuney have sacrificed to keep her warm.

District 12 has neither the technology nor the decent doctors to diagnose what's wrong with her, but whatever it is has been sucking the life out of here for years. It's a slow progression that makes her weaker, unable to work as much as she used to be able to. Sometimes, she's able to help out with making materials and clothes for us to trade, but it's mostly me that does it. And sometimes Tuney.

Speaking of which, as I look up from hugging my beaming mother I'm shocked to see her standing in the doorway, her blonde hair long and straggly over her shoulders. As soon as I make eye contact with her, she looks down.

'Hi Tuney. I didn't think I'd see you here.' My voice isn't friendly, and my mother looks between us anxiously and replies before Tuney can.

'Petunia was just here to drop off some more material Lily, and look, she even brought some stuff for you two to wear tomorrow-' She tells me eagerly, pulling Tuney towards her so that we're both stood on either side, staring at each other while each having an arm around the woman between us. I glance at the table on the other side of the room, and see two dresses laid out on it. Admittedly, they're some of the best clothes we own, and for the reaping, we need it.

'Thank you.' I tell her stiffly, and she looks at me warily. While she obviously hates what's happened to our relationship, she isn't exactly easy-going on me either.

'You can choose which one you like, I don't mind.'

'See, isn't that kind of her Lily?' My mother interjects imploringly, beaming at me as Petunia forces a comforting smile at her. In some ways, our mother is the only reason that me and Petunia can stay in the same room with eachother without screaming at one another. 'I was thinking you should wear the navy one, it would compliment your hair beautifully-'

'Sounds great, mum, it really does, but I've got some bread and it's getting cold.' I force smile to match Petunias- I'm grateful, I really am, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to pretend to be all sappy with my sister just because of a couple of dresses.

My mum pauses for a moment before squeezing my hand slightly and smiling gratefully. 'That sounds lovely.'

Despite the fact that her eyes are downcast on the floor, I walk past Tuney and towards the oven without another word.

...

_2029_

_'Come on, just try a bit!'_

_'I've had it before, it tastes disgusting-'_

_'You can't find it disgusting James, it's Christmas pudding-'_

_'It just tastes like cinnam- oi!'_

_I laugh loudly at the look on James face as I lunge forward with a piece of the pudding in my gloved hand, aiming for his mouth. He scrambles away, almost losing his footing in the deep snow as he avoids the 'poison', as he calls it. We're in light spirits after our families spent Christmas dinner together, and we've retreated out into the fields to spend some time in the snow. His brother hates the snow, and as for Tuney...I'd much honestly rather spend time with James._

_He smiles despite himself eventually, looking at me as I laugh and shaking his head slightly. 'Just keep it away from me and I'll let you keep your hands.' He tells me sternly, and we keep walking. We're much further away from our houses than usual, but what our parents don't know won't hurt them._

_We fall into a comfortable silence, and somewhere along the way, we take each other's hands, almost instinctively. For the 8 months or so that we've been friends, it's become a sort of habit of ours. I glance up at him, and he seems deep in thought, his brow furrowed as his hazel eyes trace the snow in front of his feet._

_'What are you thinking about?' I question, swinging his hand slightly. There's a pause before he replies._

_'I got you a present.' He tells me suddenly, and turns to me as we both pause in the snow. I grin, thinking excitedly about the one I've already gotten for him._

_He fumbles in his coat pocket's, searching with determination on his face before he pulls out a small paper bag and holds it towards me cautiously. He's chewing his lip nervously, and when I take the bag with a grateful smile he runs a hand through his hair._

_I reach into it, and my hand lands on something small and smooth. Pulling it out reveals a thin golden chain, with a delicately small, seemingly hand-carved oval of wood on the end. A necklace._

_'James, it's-' I breathe out, holding it in front of my face as I smile. It's perfect, beautiful. He looks slightly relieved, but runs his hand through his hair yet again._

_'I know it's nothing special, but the golden chain was the best we could afford, and I tried my best with the wood-'_

_'It's perfect.' I tell him honestly, before squinting as I notice something engraved on the oval. He sees me looking._

_'It's an apple blossom.' He murmurs, and I'm surprised at how bashful he suddenly sounds. 'It symbolises better things to come.'_

_I'm speechless for a moment, because suddenly my presents seems pretty insignificant compared to this. Because it's so James, and yet so me that it's perfect in every way. His face is brighter now that he can see how much I adore it, and I suddenly lean forward, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He's just looped his arms around me in return when I lean up, planting a kiss on his cold cheek._

_He seems to startle slightly, and I pull back to see blood rushing to his already rosy cheeks, and he's blinking at me rapidly. He's dumbstruck, and something about the way he's looking at me makes me feel all giddy inside._

_We're still in each other's arms, and suddenly, I want to kiss him again._

_'I-'_

_The first syllable has barely left my mouth when there's a sudden bang in the distance, and we both jump and look away from eachother in shock. I release myself from his arms but my hand stays in his, and we both stare at the source of the noise on the far side of the field. My breathing is loud in my ears, because suddenly, I'm aware of another faint noise in the distance, something that would've been hard enough to hear out here in the fields, let alone embracing James at the same time._

_The siren that signals an attack on our village._

_'Lily-'_

_The spot we're both staring at unexpectedly explodes with such a tremendous racket and force that I let out a scream, and we're both suddenly running for our lives in the opposite direction. It's too late and too dangerous to return home, so we're running towards the nearest patch of forest we can see, the snow slowing us down considerably. There's another bang behind us, signalling another explosion and I dare to look back quickly. My gaze catches a bright patch of fire and smoke eating away at the pure snow before I feel James yank at my arm._

_'Lily come on!'_

_We don't stop running until we can no longer hear the siren._

...

2036

I blink out of my reverie as I stare out of the window at the snow, the threadbare curtains not blocking much of the view of District 12. Even those that work in the mines late on most days have already gone home hours beforehand, spending time with any family they have as much as possible before the reaping tomorrow. I'm not sure about those living in the seam though. I'm constantly told how fortunate I am to live in the Merchant's section rather than the seam, where starvation is not just cruelly common but the cause of so many deaths.

Not that the Merchant's side is much better. More job availability, I suppose, but there are still those that barely scrape a living.

As I look at the falling snow with a sombre expression on my face, I notice a few peacekeepers in white uniforms heading out towards the square, barely noticeable in the snow apart from there protective helmets. I'm assuming it's last minute stuff for the reaping tomorrow, so I watch them go disdainfully.

Peacekeepers. An ironic name, considering there isn't much for them to control around here. People in District 12 are too starving, too desperate to even consider causing a stir, some sort of rebellion that could kill us all. One hint of a rebellion from our district, and all the Capitol will have to do is press a button to stop any supplies being sent our way.

And then we're all screwed.

I suddenly remember something that an old friend once said to me. District 12, where you can starve to death in safety. Remus, I think his name was.

'Lily?'

I look in the reflection of the window to see Tuney hovering by the door of our shared bedroom, her hands wrung together but her face slightly hard.

'Yes?'

She hesitates, before stepping towards me. 'I've put mum to bed, and the fire's going again. Thanks for collecting the wood.'

'No problem.' I answer. Under normal circumstances, I could add something to the effect of- 'Some of us actually try to make a living while you're off with your oaf of a boyfriend', but I'm too tired and too nervous about the reaping to retaliate.

'It'll be okay.' She suddenly blurts out after a few moments of silence, and I turn to look at her finally. Her hair's been pulled back into a loose bun, and she has a ratty old apron on over a shirt that is far too small for her. Her face looks gaunt in the candlelight. Then again, so does mine.

I barely even remember the feeling of being genuinely well-fed now, 7 years after the rebellion.

'The reaping, I mean.' Tuney clarifies. 'The odds-'

'Are in my favour, right?' I say sarcastically, a bitter smile on my face. 'You sound like Effie Trinket. I'm the one with the Tessarae, Tuney.'

There's a pause, before- 'You didn't have to-'

'We were starving, Tuney, of course I did.' I snap back. She goes silent at that, and I turn back to the window. 'Thanks for the dress.' I say in a hollow voice, signalling the end of the conversation as I stare out at the snow miserably.

'Right.' She answers, not even shocked anymore. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her walk towards the door in the reflection of the window. Once she arrives there, she pauses, staring back at me as if she wants to say something.

I shut the drapes in one sharp movement, blocking my view of her as she walks away.

...

_2029_

_Bracing myself for the cold, I lift my hand out of the jacket draped over me and James and reach towards a small chunk of bread, my hand visibly shaking and startlingly white as I strain towards it. Saying nothing, I feel James reach towards it instead, his arms longer than mine. Seeing as we're both huddled together under the large leather coat we'd luckily found in the woods, as he moves I do aswell, and I realise how painful the action is._

_'Here.' He croaks to me, not unkindly as he passes me the stale bread, and I stuff it into my mouth in hunger._

_After the sirens went off days ago, we ran until we couldn't any longer, making it into the woods and away from the bombing. Finding a small thatch of cover, we slept in sheer exhaustion. Once we'd woken up however, going back was out of the question. With the sirens still piercing and fire visible in the distance, we'd never make it home._

_So, we decided to wait it out, huddled together with a scarce amount of food between us. In all honesty, it was a miracle we were still alive._

_But as we both lean back against the tree trunk with a sigh, I realise that I can't fool myself any longer. If simply reaching for a piece of bread is becoming painful, I don't have much life left in me. Hopefully though, James will last a bit longer, being stronger and broader._

_The thought of dying should scare me more, but just like in the fire, my mind is too blurry and tired to acknowledge the fact._

_As if reading my mind, I feel James' hand reach for mine under the coat, and I lean into him even more until my head is rested in the crook of his neck. I briefly wonder how long I would've lasted without his warmth and companionship in the woods. I decided that it would've been barely a couple of hours._

_Minutes pass and I find myself drifting off to sleep, until James nudges me weakly. At first I think it's his reminded not to fall asleep, but then I look up to see his eyes alert, guarded._

_'Do you hear that?'_

_I listen intently, and for a moment all I hear is our breathing. That is, until, I hear the distinct sound of footsteps, and gruff voices that signal people are near. I can feel my heart, weak and hammering against my ribcage, and I squeeze James' hand. I open my mouth, ready to alert the people of our presence- because whoever it is, they need help, and they need it now- when something slashes through the thick branches, sending light flooding into their hiding place and causing them both to recoil against it._

_'What the-'_

_Squinting, I watch as four men in white uniforms stare down at us, completely bewildered at the sight of two starving ten year olds in front of them. I'm barely given a chance to register their unpleasant expressions, however, when they suddenly reaching in to haul us up, yanking us apart and carrying us away._

_The next hour or so is a blur, but all I know is that with every step the men take, with me and James in their arms, we're getting closer and closer to the smoke, to the chaos that I can clearly hear. The sirens have stopped, but I'm bewildered at the sight of houses burnt down to ashes, people in crowds and howling in grief and confusion as other men in white uniforms march around the area._

_I hear James yelp weakly somewhere behind me, and while I can't see him, I know that's he's recognised what I'm gradually beginning to- that this is our home village. The people crying are my neighbours, and suddenly I want to clamp my hands over my ears, blocking the howling and the yelling out of my brain._

_'What-' I begin, when we reach the middle of what used to be the town square and I'm dropped completely, landing in a painful heap as I groan. I barely have a chance to get to my feet when the men carrying me and James have already disappeared, heading towards a white van that looks completely out of place in our town._

_'The Capitol.' A voice says in my ear, and I feel James pulling me carefully to my feet as he follows my gaze to the van. 'Something's happened, they've-' He doesn't finish, his voice fading as he stares in horror around at the town. Well, what used to be a town. Now, it's been reduced to ashes._

_'James-' I start to speak in a shaky voice, tears brimming in my eyes as I suddenly long for the quiet patch of trees we were both in barely an hour ago._

_I'm cut off, however, by a piercing yell and bodies rushing towards us._

_'Lily!'_

_Mum! I register her voice just as she collides with me, pulling me into her arms and holding me close as she weeps into my hair. I can hear somebody yelling orders, their commanding voice clashing with the cries of confusion from my neighbours. My hand instinctively reaches out for James', but he's nowhere to be found._

_'You there! Where are your family?'_

_'I- I don't know-'_

_I pull back from mum and Tuney to see James standing a few feet away from us, completely confused and pale as he stares wildly around at the town. I scan the crowds with him as the man from the Capitol stands impatiently, holding a clipboard in his arms. Finally, James' gaze rests on my mum's, seeking help from her as to where his parents are._

_After a moment, I can feel mum shaking violently with unreleased sobs, and suddenly, her lack of answers is enough to tell both me and James what's happened. The houses burnt to the ground...the people grieving everywhere, some shouting out for members of their family that will never appear..._

_James' face turns impossibly paler, his eyebrows drawing together above his slightly crazed hazel eyes._

_'No!'_

_I reach out for him, my arms yearning to comfort him, when I'm suddenly shoved aside, and I realise Tuney, mum and me are being herded in a certain direction as the capitol men's voices blur into one. I close my eyes and try not to go crazy, imagining myself back at the tree, safe with James and undisturbed by the men now herding them into the white van..._

_My eyes fly open, and suddenly I'm trying to wriggle myself out of mum's arms as she cries. 'James!' I call out over the crowd, seeking him out as the crowd shoves me further away. 'James!'_

_'Lily!' He appears beyond the crowd of people, craning his neck and attempting to push past people to get to me._

_'Lily-' Tuney grabs my arm in uncertainty, but I shove her away, tears pouring down my face as we're pushed into the van, and a capitol man shoves James so hard that he falls to the floor, breaking eye contact as the van doors creak shut in front of me._

_'No!'_

_James pushed himself up off the dirt, his knees groaning in protest as he stumbled forward. He felt sickened to the stomach, losing everything- including his will to live- in barely under an hour. His parents...his whole family...and now Lily..._

_'Lily!' He roared after the van, watching in despair as it sped off. It seemed as if the Capitol men had split everyone remaining into groups while him and Lily had been gone, spitting out words such as 'Relocation' and 'Districts'. Whatever it was, it was causing his heart to break._

_No-one tried to stop him as he ran after the van this time. He couldn't let her leave...not like this...not Lily._

_'Lily!' He yelled again, a tear falling onto his grimy cheek as he slowed slightly, the van already too far away by now. 'Li-'_

_He came to a stop as something caught his eye on the road, something gold and glinting amidst the dust. His knees and hands shaking, he crouched down to pick it up, his heart sinking impossibly further as he recognised the wooden oval, the apple blossom carved onto its surface. She must have accidently dropped it when being carried by the capitol men._

_He gripped onto it tightly, his fist curling until it became almost painful._

_After all, this was all he really had to hold on to now._


	2. Chapter 2

Shockingly, when I wake up at 8 the next morning the snow has all melted, meaning that there will be no panicking peacekeepers trying to clear the roads before members of the Capitol arrive. It also means that, with the sun shining as it is, we won't have to bundle up as much for the walk to the square, which is a relief considering the amount of effort it'll take to escort mum there anyway.

Attending the reaping is an obligation, not an option, no matter what age you are or what condition you in. Babies that are barely days old will be forced into the thick crowds with their mothers. On the first, horrifying year of the Games, one man collapsed and suffered a heart attack during the reaping, and since then the rules have been changed; if you're on death's door, you will be permitted to stay home, as long as it's 'Capitol approved'.

Fortunately for us, mum's case isn't quite severe.

Pulling my aching body out of bed with a heavy heart, I try to remain optimistic as I think back over the last five games, where each time I've escaped being reaped. Each year, however, the odds have become more and more out of my favour.

During the 2nd Hunger Games, at only 12, my name was entered once, with Tuney's entered six times. By the time the 4th Hunger Games had arrived, however, we were slowly starving, and mum was becoming more and more ill to the point where without telling mum or Tuney, I signed up for tesserae. This meant that, while we were given a small supply of grain and oil that would help our chances of survival for the year, my name was entered into the reaping six times- three because I was obliged to, and three for enough grain and oil for our family of three. Tuney, at 19, was no longer eligible to sign up for it.

I told them the truth eventually. At 14, while strengthened beyond my years due to what we'd been through, I was still immensely fragile at the time of the reaping, and broke down one night and told them.

The look on mum's face when I'd told her is permanently embedded into my brain now. It's not easy to go into a reaping when you realise that even your mum has lost hope in the odds.

I wonder if the names have already been placed meticulously in the glass sphere by now. I wonder if our host's hand will ever stray near to one of my 21 slips.

Just the thought sends shivers down my spine, and I push it aside while pulling on the navy blue dress that Petunia's laid out for me. I note that it's one she's made herself, when she's not too busy gallivanting out with Vernon. One of the few reasons that we've survived this long in District 12 is the small textiles business we've been running over the last six years, which has allowed us to remain in the Merchant section and either sell or trade materials, often in the form of dresses or shirts.

It's just a simple dress, with no fancy detail or alterations, but it's all I'm really looking for. If I could, I'd wear my normal khakis and a shirt, but it's standard that we all dress up for the reaping. If I did stick to my khakis, I would guarantee a camera being trained on me to display the 'poverty of District 12', and I refuse to give the Capitol that satisfaction.

My hair still hangs to my waist as it did all those years ago, making it the only thing that connects me with the child I used to be. My formally vibrant eyes have faded to a dull green, it seems. Aside from my mum, the two people that could bring out the life in them have been taken away from me.

As I'm walking towards my bedroom door, I freeze as I pass my desk, my eyes landing on a small object in the middle of it.

I had planned on giving it to him on that fateful Christmas, but the sirens had stolen my chance to. A thin leather band to wrap around his wrist- simple, and probably too girly for him, but I'd had little money to spend on presents for anyone that year. What made it special though (or so I'd assumed as a ten year old) was the peculiar shaped leaf made of brass that hung on it, one in the exact shape of the leaves on the tree they would sit under.

Without a further thought, I pick it up, pulling on the already weakened leather so that it's big enough to fit on my 17 year old wrist.

Maybe it's the fact that I was only thinking about the boy that could bring life into my eyes moments ago, or maybe it's the fact that this is his reaping day too. Whatever it is, I murmur a good luck to the sky before leaving to wake up mum.

...

It's easy to tell mum's putting on an optimistic face as she slices thick, warm bread for me and Tuney, but I go along with it anyway. While frail, my mum is also very stubborn, a trait she's passed on to me. So when she gives me a comforting smile from across the table, I return it with as much enthusiasm as I can.

The bread has no taste as I chew on it obediently, trying to keep it in my stomach.

'Lily!'

'What?' I snap, perhaps a little too sharply as Tuney comes hurrying into the kitchen, but she barely falters, already on auto-pilot for getting us all ready for the reaping at 11.

'Alice is here to see you.' She tells me, before going to fuss over mum, who bats her away lightly, muttering about not being a child.

How the Reaping changes us all, I think bitterly, before leaping out of my seat to meet Alice at the door. Simply thinking of my best friend manages to push oxygen back into my lungs, making breathing a little easier and my brain a bit clearer.

With a woolly hat pulled over her mousy hair and her cheeks flushed, Alice has a small smile on her face as she walks towards me. Without a word exchanged between us, she wraps her arms around me tightly, and I relax into her despite myself. Brought up in the Seam by her dad and two brothers, Alice is a remarkably cheerful person despite the tough conditions she's been in.

'How're you doing Alice?' My mum's appeared at the doorway, and I wince at how thin she looks in the dress she's put on for today. Despite that though, she beams at Alice, knowing fully well how close her and I have become ever since being sent to District 12.

'Hi Mrs Evans-' She replies, gently hugging my mum too as the latter playfully scoffs.

'I keep telling you, it's Miriam-' She tells Alice sternly, before something in the kitchen catches her eye. 'Slice the bread a bit thinner Petunia dear, we have a guest now-'

'Oh no don't worry, I can't stay for too long-' Alice calls after mum as she hobbles into the kitchen to hopefully tell Tuney off.

Alice turns back to me with a half-hearted sigh, her smile now hesitant as she scans my face. As much as I love my mum, no-one in this world knows me better than Alice right now.

'Why don't we talk somewhere else?' She questions lightly, and I nod with a small smile.

Once we've retreated to my room, Alice sits down on the bed and pauses as I sit next to her.

'Look Lily-' I stop her before she can finish, already knowing what she's about to say.

'Please, I don't want to-'

'I know but-' She grabs one of my hands, holding it between her two thin ones and looking pleadingly at me. 'Trust me, I remember what it feels like on this day.'

Obviously, she's telling the truth, so I relax slightly. Lucky for Alice, she's no longer eligible for the reaping at the age of 19, which is one less worry for me.

'I just want you to know...' She trails off, obviously not being able to find the words to finish her sentence, but the look in her blue eyes and the way she squeezes my hand gives me the comfort that words do not.

'I know.' I whisper back, and she gives me a hug again before pulling away. Seeing tears in her eyes, I quickly change the subject before she can burst into tears. As much as I love her, that isn't something I'd be able to handle right now.

'How's Frank?' I ask after her fiancée, a 20 year old young miner that also lives in the seam. Frank has the cunning ability to put a smile on anyone's face, which is a somewhat blessing in a place like District 12.

'He's good.' She replies with a smile, before looking slightly nervous. 'We've actually got some news, that's one of the reasons why I came over so early this morning.' She takes a deep breath as I give her a smile of encouragement, before her abruptly shaky voice continues. 'Frank and I are...having a baby.'

Despite the day, despite the fact that the possibility of being reaped is hanging over my head like a thunder cloud, I can't deny the thrill of joy that rushes through me at her declaration. Giving a high pitched squeal, I pull her to her feet, hugging her and laughing as I congratulate her.

'I can't believe- how long have you known?' I ask, my voice still unusually high-pitched as I smile at her. She looks flustered but glowing as she smiles equally as wide.

'Not long, I promise, I wanted you to be one of the first to know, after Frank of course.' She gets that loving look in her eyes again, the one she always does when talking about Frank, and I can already picture his ecstatic reaction at the news. The thought makes me smile even more. Alice is rather lucky for someone living in the seam- while she hasn't got good living conditions, she has enough love for a lifetime.

Due to Alice and Frank's families' sheer determination over the past years, they're not as nearly as bad off as a lot of the families in the seam, so it's comforting to know that the new baby and Alice will be supported to a certain extent.

And yet, there's still that nagging worry in the pit of my stomach, I see it on her face too. Children are a blessing, of course, but neither of us would intentionally have them on purpose. For fear of them suffering. For fear of them being reaped and made to fight to the death.

And yet, despite it being an accident, Alice is having one of her own. I can't help but see it as both a blessing and a cause for fear, despite being overjoyed by it.

There's a pause for a few moments as we continue to hug, before I pull away from her and squeeze her hand. 'I'm so happy for you two. Or you three I should say.' I add with a chuckle, and she's about to reply when Tuney calls from the kitchen.

'Lily, we have to tidy up before going to the town square!'

With one sentence, Tuney pulls both me and Alice back to reality. Or perhaps we were already there, just too overjoyed at the prospect of a new life to acknowledge it.

Alice squeezes my hand yet again, before mouthing to me. It'll be okay. She tells me, trying to seep comfort into me as I nod determinedly.

'I know.'

...

_**2029** _

_'Daddy, my legs have gone numb.'_

_Discreetly, I slowly turn my head towards the source of the small voice, looking through my curtain of hair to see a girl around my age, her knees tucked up against her chest as her dad's arm wraps around her protectively. Packed tightly into the cold and foul-smelling van, all of them have hardly any room to move for fear of accidentally jabbing another person in the stomach, back or even face, in the cases of some of the older adults lying down with their eyes closed, obviously trying desperately to shut out the world around them._

_I've tried to do the same, but all I can see behind my eyelids is my home village in flames, and James' face as I was forced into the white van._

_'Don't worry sweetie, I'm sure they'll take us home soon.' The dad tells his daughter, stroking her fair hair and trying to look optimistic._

_'How much longer do you think it'll be?' Tuney asks in a hollow voice. Mum is sat between both of us, and both me and Tuney are curled up to her sides, what little possessions my mum managed to collect before our house burned at our feet._

_From what I've heard from the people around us, for the three days that me and James were hiding, fire bombs were dropped all over the country, signalling one thing- the Capitol's victory. The rebellion is over, and now we're paying the consequences._

_How, we don't yet know._

_As if they were listening to my thoughts, a few of the Capitol men suddenly burst into the back of the van where we're being kept, their faces harsh as they tuck their guns into their sides in case there's any trouble. I watch as one of the little boys nearest the men gulps and recoils slightly._

_I'm suddenly hit with a pang of longing for James, and wonder where he is now._

_'Please...tell us what's happening.' A man, that I vaguely recognise from our town, speaks up suddenly, his voice gruff and pleading. I'm mildly envious of his clear bravery, and the defiance in his eyes. 'Where are we going?'_

_'The Rebellion is over.' He spits, his voice slightly accented from growing up nearest the Capitol. 'President Riddle has ordered that the country of Panem is split up into 12 different districts. You're being taken to one of them now.'_

_There's only silence for a few moments as the news sinks in, and I feel mum's arm tighten around my side. I have an awful feeling in my stomach, and swallow thickly; basically, we're being imprisoned._

_'You're being taken to District 12.' The man adds, and there's a hint of a smirk on his face, and he exchanges a look with the man next to him as if it's some private joke._

_I clear my throat, speaking before I have the chance to think about: 'What about the people that were left behind?'_

_Every pair of eyes in the van dart to my face, completely shocked at the little voice that has dared to speak out._

_'Lily-' Mum scolds as a flicker of anger flashes across the man's face, and he's about to say something when another man behind him cuts him off._

_'Leonard.' He says warningly, before stepping forward so that I can see him. I'm astounded by how young he is; he looks barely 18, much too young for being in the clutches of that uniform. He surveys me curiously, before answering carefully._

_'They'll be taken to other districts around the country.'_

_'Can we see them?' I ask quietly; compared to the other man, I'm not really afraid of this one._

_The young man's about to answer when the older one from earlier cuts him off. 'No. There will be no contact between the districts unless permission is granted by the Capitol itself.' A pause, before- 'You all work for the Capitol now, the new nation formed of those that didn't rebel.' He emphasises the last part, spitting it out again as he sneers down at us all._

_The van slows to a stop after a while, and we're told to get up and make our way towards the doors that are beginning to creak open. As the van jolts and my legs buckle slightly from sitting down for so long, I feel a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. I look up to see the young Capitol man from earlier, and he looks at me for barely a second before looking up, his attention caught by something in front of us all._

_The doors to the van are being opened, a sharp rush of air hitting us all like a knife as the horrible man from earlier steps forward, a grim smile on his face._

_'Welcome to District 12.'_

...

'Age?'

I'm about to reply when a harsh cry suddenly fills the air, and I look beyond the Peacekeepers to see a young girl of 4 or 5 clinging to her older sister, who is trying and failing not to cry as she tries to pry off the little girl and join the queue of her age range.

'No! Katniss please don't leave-'

'Age?' The man before me repeats impatiently, a bit louder this time so that I'm forced to look back at him. With a jolt that sends a shiver down my spine, I suddenly recognise him from the van that first took me to District 12. Seeing as the only Peacekeepers registering us today are from the Capitol (District 12's are far more kind), I realise this must be why I never saw him around after that day.

I notice that his face is unchanged, his sneer still in place as he stares me down.

'17.' I tell him, my defiant eyes not leaving his face as he presses a stamp to my hand before noting something down on the clipboard in front of him. I vaguely wonder if he recognises me at all.

'Next!' He barks to the person behind me, and I stalk off with as much anger as I can with my trembling legs.

I spot mum, Tuney, Alice and Frank not too far away, all talking in low voices, and I make my way towards them without a second thought. The peacekeepers surrounding the Town Square aren't doing too much to keep order; over the years, I've noticed that they seem to hate this occasion too, and don't hide their disdain of the Capitol Peacekeepers that keep order by shoving and barking orders out.

A large stage has been set up in the square, with a huge screen that looks extremely out of place in District 12, where we're given a tiny TV for each household, purely so that we watch the mandatory Capitol programming. All the girls and boys from ages 12-18 are filtering out in front of the stage nervously, some keeping in tight groups until they're forced to be separated.

However, I'm one of the first to be dismissed, so I decide to spend my last few moments with family and friends before I'm forced to go stand beside the other 17 year olds.

Frank is the first to spot me. 'Hey, Lily.' He greets me cheerfully, but even his eyes are slightly clouded over with anxiety. As the others turn to me with bright faces but similar eyes, I can't ignore the vulnerability I feel. As mum wordlessly reaches out to grasp my hand comfortingly, the fear I feel threatens to swallow me whole.

There's nothing you can do. I remind myself. Anyway, what are the odds?

I'm about to reply internally with Very high when a cheery voice suddenly calls out over the speakers, standing out in the miserable atmosphere around us.

'Could everyone please gather in the square, the Reaping of District 12 is about to start!'

As people begin to hurry past me, I turn away from my mum, not allowing myself to show her how frightened I am.

'Hey-' I look up at Alice, thankful that she's slightly more composed than everyone else; then again, this could be due to the fact that Frank's arm is around her, warm and comforting as she reaches out to squeeze my hand. 'I'll see you soon yeah?'

After a moment, I nod, glancing at Tuney who meets my eyes hesitantly. 'Yeah. I'll see you soon.'

...

'Welcome everyone!'

I'm distracted from staring down at my shoes, at the dust billowing around them on the ground by the sound of an overly chirpy voice, and look up in time to see a woman tottering onto the stage, microphone in hand.

While the last 3 years have had Effie Trinket as their host, this year she's been replaced by an even more extravagant version of the Capitol woman. Her olive skin stands out among the pale, ashen faces of District 12 completely, as does the electric red curly bob she's sporting, the ringlets piled on top of her head and giving her the appearance of a poodle.

Frankly, it's repulsive, but the new host seems to interpret the crowd's shocked faces as stares of admiration, as she looks utterly delighted as she puts the microphone down on the stand and taps it quickly.

She probably gives no thought to the fact that people are staring because their lives practically lie in her hands. My eyes briefly dart to the two glass spheres that hold the tributes names, and I wonder how close my slips are to the top before looking back at the host, who I nick-name 'Curly' for the time being.

'Welcome, District 12! And, happy Hunger Games! It is truly an honour to be here.' She tells us in her accented Capitol voice, and I can't help but doubt her sincerity of that sentence. District 12 is the poorest, least popular district of Panem. 'The time has come to select one young man and woman, for the honour of representing District 12 this year. But, first we have a very special message sent to you all the way from the Capitol.'

At that, she totters over in ridiculous heels to press a switch next to the screen, and it immediately lights up. Suddenly, we're confronted with images of the rebellion, and I close my eyes, just as I have every other year. However, I can't block out the sound without looking suspicious, so I'm forced to listen to President Riddle's message.

'Once upon a time, Panem was a land of harmony, of peace, beauty and triumph. After the great disaster that had shaken our world so many years ago, we had found tranquillity, after so much War and destruction.'

Riddle's voice is completely unlike anything I've ever head; melodic and fluent, it should be almost pleasant to the ears. However there's an undertone to it, as if he's laughing at his own words. Sly and menacing, it reminds me of a snake. Not to be trusted.

Not that I would ever voice these thoughts aloud.

'But then, one terrible year, we found ourselves victim to another rebellion. Those that thrived on murder and the destruction of a well-built nation began leaving Panem with widows and orphans. Flowers became fire, and the air became tarnished with betrayal...'

Everything about his words are biased and glorified, and I feel sick to the stomach as he continues on with details of the rebellion. The so called 'glorious' Panem loved those of a higher class and left the rest of us to fend for ourselves. In no way did I blame the rebels. I was born to them, I belong on their side, and proudly so.

'And then came the peace, the end of the rebellion that began a new era of Panem. The Capitol, the former government, now became an entire nation in itself, full of those that had not rebelled; those that loved their nation, and had lost so much in their will to be loyal, honourable, and pure of heart. Panem would now be split into 12 districts, with each manufacturing the structure of our nation.'

We're slaves. I add to Riddle's words, and briefly wonder how my face must look now.

'But peace comes with a price. As a punishment to the traitors that had defied their nation, a decree was passed. The decree stated that as a reminder to the rebels, each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up two tributes, one male and one female, to take part in The Hunger Games. During this, they would fight to the death, with the lone victor becoming a symbol of our forgiveness, and of the districts' sacrifice. This, would make sure that we would never have to face the treachery of the rebellion ever again.'

Once I'm certain that the message has finished, I open my eyes to see Curly looking at the audience as if she expects applause. After a few moments, she takes the hateful silence as an awed approval, and beams at us all again.

'Like I said, you're all very, very lucky that we were able to witness President Riddle's wise words.' Curly tells us, before looking slightly uncomfortable and continuing. 'Now, seeing as there are no previous victors to introduce-'

Of course there aren't. In the last 6 games, 5 out of 6 victors were from Districts 1, 2 and 4, those closest to the Capitol. These districts are made up of those that didn't rebel, but the Capitol could not afford to keep in their own city. However, there are rumours: rumours that among these special districts, there are rebels that managed to escape imprisonment in the poorer districts like 12 or 11.

Part of me continuously wishes that we had been one of them; In those 3 districts, we've noticed that conditions are so much better. While there's no contact between the 12, every year when we see the televised reapings, we see the conditions of the districts.

District 1: practically the Capitol, only with less extravagance and with a population that look a little more normal. Except these ones are usually bloodthirsty, eager to volunteer: there's silent speculation among our district that they've been trained, almost brainwashed to fight in the Hunger Games. After all, winning equals fame. District 2 is similar, with 4 being the lesser of the evils, but only a tiny bit.

What stands out the most, however, is the fact that in these districts, when the camera pans over the crowd, there's not a skeletal figure in sight. Unlike some of the poorer Districts.

'-We'll just head straight to the drawing. Ladies first, as always!' Curly chirps, before moving swiftly towards the glass sphere to her right.

This is the 6th year that I'm reminded of the sharp intake of breath from the crowd as her hand hovers in the sphere. The 6th year that I trace all movement of her hand as it decides which slip of paper to grab. The 6th year that I yearn to look for mum or Alice, just for a bit of comfort, but I'm too afraid to remove my eyes from the sphere.

As she plucks a piece from the sphere, holding it triumphantly in the air as she walks back into the microphone, I can only register the wild beating of my heart, and my cold hands as they shake visibly, clasped in front of me.

Just as she taps the microphone in order to read out the name, a baby from somewhere at the back of the crowd begins to cry in distress, completely unaware that this is a televised affair.

For the 6th year, I can barely breathe as she opens her mouth to speak.

'Lily Evans!'

It's me.

...

A new wail of despair pierces the air and joins the baby, but to my surprise, it isn't mine. Recognising it as mum's, I choke slightly on air before gulping loudly, completely aware that a camera will now be trained on my face, analysing my every move. I can either break down, like most tributes do, or attempt to compose myself so that I'm not seen as weak, easy prey.

Which is of course what I am, but I won't let them see it.

In some sort of dream-like trance, I walk through the crowd of 17 year old girls, not meeting any of their sympathetic eyes. I've never been too close to any of them, and now is not the time to act as if we're all best friends.

It's me. I repeat in my head, and my lips quiver before I swallow determinedly again, keeping any tears at bay.

'Come on up!' Curly calls out in a cheery voice, and I have half a mind to get my hands on the first heavy thing I can find and hurl it at her ridiculous wig.

As I walk towards the stage, my legs quivering as if they're made of wicker, my first instinct is to run. Run away from the town square, away from District 12, somehow make it to the vast forest that splits us from the other districts. Many have done it before; not after being reaped, however.

But that option isn't open as a few Peacekeepers surround me, leading me up the steps and onto the stage. The wind picks up then, blowing my hair into my face as the crowd remains silent.

Curly has suddenly put her hands on my shoulders, pulling me gently towards the center of the stage as her sweet perfume overpowers my senses completely.

'There we go, our first tribute for this year! Can we have a round of applause?'

Curly clearly hasn't watched the last few reapings of District 12, because after her first year of trying to get any cheery response out of the district, Effie Trinket gave up. No-one responds at all, their eyes either trained sympathetically on my face or on their feet. In no time at all, I track down the four people I'm looking for. Tuney has her arms around mum, a disbelieving and tormented expression on her blotchy face as mum cries silently into her dress. Alice seems to have a vice grip on Frank's arm, frowning as if she can't quite believe what's happening.

As Curly walks towards the next sphere, my feelings are quite similar to Alice's.

How is this happening? I think, my eyes staring into space as I force myself to breathe. I was supposed to be okay. It wasn't supposed to be me.

'Remus Lupin!' Curly's voice breaks me out of my reverie, and I feel as if someone's punched me in the gut. Because I recognise that name, and as I spot him in the crowd, with an expression similar to Alice's, I recognise the face.

We've never been close, or possibly even friends, but we've never been enemies either. He lives in the seam with just his mother and two sisters, and I've seen him quite a bit at school. Just like me and Alice, he kept to a small circle of friends, quiet and slightly gloomy. Once or twice, I've sat next to him in History, and been astounded at his clear intelligence despite his quiet attitude.

But as he makes his way towards the stage, I realise that that's not who I remember him as.

It was only once that I caught him in the act, but I know that it's a regular occurrence for him. I had just been on my way back from visiting Alice in the seam when there'd been a body discovered in the road, causing there to be disturbances around that area. Not wanting to have to endure that sight or atmosphere, I'd taken another route; longer, but certainly pretty- the outskirts of the District near the river and woods.

It had been as I walked past the woods I'd seen him. Straightening up next to the fence as if he'd just crawled under it, a huge bag in his arms. Slung over his arms was a bow and arrow, and on his face upon seeing me, an expression of pure shock. We'd stood there for what felt like hours, just looking at each other as if even I had been caught doing something I shouldn't have been.

Hunting is forbidden in District 12, completely illegal. We both knew that if either one of us happened to let slip what Remus had been doing, there would be consequences. For hunting, he would be executed for sure. For keeping it a secret, I would hopefully escape with a whipping.

It was a price neither of us wanted to pay, so we watched each other carefully. After a minute or so, in what I could only hope was a comforting manner, I gave him a small smile, squinting against the sun and intending to show him that it was fine, I wouldn't tell a soul. And I didn't. Once I had walked away, leaving him in complete shock, I didn't even tell Alice or mum.

I turn my head to see him glancing at me as he walks towards the center of the stage, looking very much like he wants to cry. I vaguely hear one of his sisters wailing in the audience, and watch as he sets his jaw determinedly.

'I present to you, District 12's tributes for the 7th Hunger Games!' Curly suddenly says, her voice extremely loud now that we're on the stage with her. She thrusts both of us forward so hard that I stumble ever so slightly, and already feel mortified at the thought of being seen weak on TV. Then again, I highly doubt anyone will pay attention to the District 12 reaping. 'Come on now you two, shake hands.'

We both turn slowly towards each other, neither meeting each other's eyes as we grasp each other's hands firmly. His is warm and calloused around mine, and I meet his eyes for the briefest second, seeing my own anxiety reflected there.

I tear my eyes away from his face, very aware of what this means for both of us. Suddenly, the only thing I can think of is which one of us will be the first to be killed.

I let go of his hand as if I've been scalded.

...

Barely 10 minutes later, we're given some time to say goodbye to anyone that wishes to. A small part of me wishes that we didn't have to; I'm not sure that I can handle mum's tears and Alice's goodbye without completely breaking down, but I also know that I need to hear them speak one last time.

One last time. I replay the words over in my head and feel a clawing sensation in my stomach. I close my eyes and rest my head against the window pane I'm sat next time, swallowing thickly before opening them again. I drink in the sight of District 12 from the Justice Building's window. Compared to my old village, it's nothing special at all, and yet I know as soon as I'm on the train to the Capitol, I'll miss it dearly.

Alice is the first to visit me, accompanied by Frank, who says his goodbye first in order to let Alice and me have some privacy. He wraps his arms around me, and his scent of smoke and wood reminds me of home. This is our first and probably last hug, as we've never been extremely close, but it's comforting nonetheless. He pulls back and gives me a sad, crooked smile, his kind blue eyes saying goodbye for him. 'Look after Alice and your baby.' I tell him, and if he's surprised at my knowledge he doesn't show it.

'I promise.' He tells me genuinely, and I know for sure that I couldn't have asked for a better man to keep Alice and her baby loved and protected.

Alice's goodbye is urgent, and we're hugging for most of it, both taking deep shuddering breaths as I wish that we were in another world, one free of the Capitol and the slaughter I'm about to be shipped to. 'You can do this, I know you can.' She tells me, placing a kiss on my temple as she pulls back. 'You're brave, and strong- you could win this.' She tells me hopefully, her eyes full of tears as she struggles to remain composed.

'There are people braver and stronger out there, I'm sure-'

'Don't.' She cuts me off angrily, but I know by her face that she isn't actually bitter. 'Don't give up already Lily, don't give up at all. Promise me that.'

There's a pause as she grips my shoulders and stare at her face, taking it in and feeling my shoulders slumping. 'I promise.'

As the peacekeeper opens the door to see Alice out, She kisses me on the forehead and grips my shoulders, telling me she loves me.

'Look after that baby.' I tell her, placing a hand on her belly before she gives a sad smile and walks away from me.

I don't have much time to mourn until Tuney had arrived, to my surprise on her own.

'Guessing Vernon's sending me a postcard with his goodbye then.' I say lowly, and she looks slightly bitter as she walks urgently towards me.

'Shut up for a minute Lily.' She says simply, before pulling me into a hug and letting the room fill with silence. I'm too shocked to respond for a moment; it's been years since I've hugged my sister, let alone her hugging me. After a few moments though I wrap my arms around her too, my eyes blinking rapidly as I realise with shame that Alice's hug meant more to me than Tuney's does.

She seems to sense my unease, as she lets go and looks at me in the eyes. It's then I realise that there's so much unsaid, so much that has been neglected over the past few years, that now is my last chance to say it. And yet I can't. Because the girl standing before me isn't the careless, blonde haired 15 year old that she was that fateful night years ago. Her hair has darkened, her bright blue eyes conflicted.

But I still place the blame on her, which is why I can't face placing responsibility on her.

'Lily please say something.' She questions pleadingly, but seems afraid of what I'll say at the same time.

A moment's pause, and then- 'I need you to look after mum.'

Tuney nods adamantly. 'I will.'

'No, properly look after her.' I snap back, and she looks slightly startled. 'I don't mean brushing her hair between gallivanting about with Vernon, I mean look after her. Now that I'm gone she'll need you a lot, most hours of the day. You need to make sure you trade our materials with the people at the market, with the bakers- just keep our business running.'

'I told you, I will-'

'Make sure that she sleeps enough but not so long that she misses taking her medicine. Make sure that when she goes to bed she doesn't have too many blankets or she'll get too hot-'

'Lily-'

My voice is louder now, the anger I feel rushing to the surface and making my skin prickle uncomfortably as Tuney stares at me, apparently not knowing what to say. 'Cheer her up when she's sad, make sure she's in a fit state when someone visits her-'

'I love her too Lily, I know how to look after my own-'

'And for god's sake Tuney, do not become responsible for the death of another parent!'

My words cut across the room in a shout, and Tuney looks as if I've slapped her, her face becoming blotchy with anger as her eyes remain livid. I stand panting, not knowing if I should've said anything at all. Because this isn't the time for arguing, and yet it's the only way I'll ever tell her how I feel.

There's silence for a moment as Tuney looks at the floor, her expression calming slightly before she murmurs gruffly- 'You need to let it go.'

I let out a cry of disbelief, feeling on the verge of tears again. 'Let it go? I can't let my dad go Tuney, it's not that simple!'

'No, all this anger you have at me!' She shouts back at me, making me jump slightly. 'I get it okay? I as good as killed him and I'm so sorry, if I could take it back, if I could trade my own life for his I would okay?' Her words are rushed, tears rolling down her cheeks as her composure finally cracks. 'You can be mad at me Lily, but don't be mad at me now, there's too much at stake. You need to focus in there, you can't be worrying about mum at home, because I promise you, I'll look after her.'

There's silence once again as I stare at her, my eyes unblinking as I digest this. My head aches now, so I nod slowly. 'Okay.'

'Just-' She looks as if she's about to snap at me again, but she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, before opening them again and looking at me intently. She quickly steps forward, putting a cold hand on my cheek. Hours later, I'll wish that I'd hugged her, told her I was sorry. But I stay silent, watching as she blinks at me once, twice, before continuing. 'Just take care of yourself, okay?'

Moments later, and she too is gone.

Last of all, and barely audible, mum walks into the room.

For what it's worth, I'm able to make the first two steps to her without crying. By the third, however, my face is scrunched up, a sob escaping my throat as I envelope myself in her arms. To my surprise she's not as hysterical as she was earlier, obviously trying to keep her composure as she holds on to me tight. Nevertheless, her voice is thick with tears as she strokes my hair calmingly.

'You were so brave up there. So brave.' She tells me, and I whimper slightly before she pulls back, staying close but observing my face carefully with tear-filled eyes. 'And you can continue to be my dear.' She swipes her thumbs gently across my cheeks, catching the tears and reaching for a tissue to wipe across my face carefully. I'm barely able to control myself now, taking shuddering, messy breaths in order to try and quell the tears.

'Mum, I'm- I'm so-' I falter, my shoulders slumping as I look around the room in search of words. I say the first one that comes to me. 'Afraid. It sounds weak, I know but-'

'No.' She holds onto my shoulders tight then, and I suddenly see a light in her eyes that I haven't seen in a while. 'No. It sounds human. But these people Lily, these people that are forcing you to do this- the Capitol- are barely so. Remember that. You're not weak vs strong, you're good vs evil, keep that safe in your thoughts.' She tells me, and I sniffle slightly but stand up a bit straighter under her hold. 'I have faith that you can return home to me Lily, but you need to remember something. You are stronger than all of these people put together.'

I can hear footsteps now, coming back to take mum away. She hears them too and pulls me close, and I let out a helpless murmur of 'Mum' as I inhale her familiar scent deeply.

'No matter what happens Lily,' She says against my shoulder, 'I need you to have faith in that, don't let them change who you are. Be brave, sweetheart.'

The peacekeeper opens the door then, signalling that time is up.

'I love you mum.' I whisper in her ear so only she can hear. 'Stay safe.'

'Don't you worry about me Lily. Just try your best to come home to me.' She tells me, letting go and giving my hands a squeeze. I'll never forget the sad look in her eyes as she begins to walk away from me towards the door, her back towards the peacekeeper as she faces me. 'I love you. Remember that.'

And then the door has shut, and she's gone. I turn to look at the mirror over the mantelpiece, at my blotchy face and my defeated, red-rimmed eyes. With a deep breath, I channel all my energy to change that defeat to determination, and whisper my reply.

'I will.'


End file.
